


So Open Up, I'm Climbin' In

by Politzania



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blow Jobs, College AU, Eventual Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Road Trips, Shrimpy!Steve, Tumblr: imaginetonyandbucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-03 17:32:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12752940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Politzania/pseuds/Politzania
Summary: So, I went WAY overboard with the following  @imaginetonyandbucky Tumblr blog prompt to the tune of about 17k words:‘we’re on a roadtrip with some friends and we have to share a hotel room and there’s only one bed and a whole lot of sexual tension’ AU Would be nice if it was smutty. Steve and Sam totally set them up. Later Bucky and Tony realise they are both fools since they've been in love with each other since the beginning of their acquaintance.A condensed version of my prompt responsehas been posted to the blog(NOTE: it's a bit spoilery re: the main fic, but then again, so is the prompt!)  but I wanted to share this extended version as well.   Expect  mild angst,  plenty of pining, flirting and snark and a 'bot cameo.     Many thanks to @hddnone/ Marvelous Menagerie for being an awesome beta!FYI: I chose not to put an Underage warning on this fic, but just so you know,  Tony is seventeen  (and not a virgin) and Bucky is twenty-one.





	1. Chapter 1

“You know, Sam, Rhodey was just kidding when he tapped you to be my surrogate big brother,” Tony grumbled as he slid into the passenger seat of his friend’s ancient blue VW Beetle. 

“Second Lieutenant Rhodes would have my ass in a sling if I left you here alone during Spring Break, Tony,” Sam replied, pulling out of the dorm parking lot. “And it’s not like you’re going home.” 

“Touche.” With Tony’s permission, Rhodey had filled Sam in on the basic story of how his young prodigy of a friend had ended up at M.I.T. After losing his mom a month before his sixteenth birthday, Tony fought with his less-than-stellar, mostly-absent father, the CEO of a Fortune 500 company about what he was going to do with his life. More specifically, what he wasn’t going to do with his life, which was spend two more years at the exclusive prep school Howard Stark had insisted that he attend. Tony had told his father that he wasn’t really being challenged in most of his classes, and had hinted at the bullying; but his father put his foot down, and that was the last straw. 

Tony pushed back, and pushed back hard, threatening to go the emancipated minor route, with all the associated publicity that would surely result. Uncle Obie stepped in as mediator, and he and Howard finally agreed to let the boy head off to college early. A few strings were pulled, and Tony was able to pursue a double major of electrical engineering and computer science with minimal interference from Dear Old Dad. Out of sight, out of mind seemed to be Howard Stark’s motto, at least as long as Tony kept his nose clean and maintained a 4.0 GPA.

Almost two years later, Tony still wasn’t sure what Jim Rhodes had seen in the cocky, loud-mouthed kid he’d been -- and, to be fair, often still was -- but he was thankful for the then-upperclassman’s friendship. Tony had met Sam Wilson through Rhodey, as they were both in the Air Force ROTC; Sam’s easy-going nature was a welcome counterpoint to Tony’s own impulsive tendencies. And now that Rhodey was on active duty, Sam was basically his only friend on campus. 

“Remind me how you know these guys,” Tony asked as they pulled into the pizza joint parking lot. “Are they aerospace majors too?” 

“Nah. Steve and I were in a Structural Materials class together and hit it off. He’s an architecture major, and I guess he and Bucky have been pals since they were kids.” 

“I still can’t believe anyone over the age of twelve would go by the name ‘Bucky’,” Tony snickered. 

“Hey now, cut the guy a break. He’s had a rough time lately.” 

“Shit, that’s right.” Barnes, a senior at MIT and member of the water polo team, had been in a bad accident the previous New Year’s Eve and it had been all over the news. A buzzed driver going way too fast on an ice-covered road had t-boned him and he’d been lucky to have only lost an arm. 

“Steve said he got out of the hospital in mid-February, but obviously had to take the semester off. Guess he’s not coping so well.” Sam added as they walked into the building. 

“Hey, Sam! Over here!” A scrawny, blond, artsy-looking guy was waving them over to a booth, where an absolutely gorgeous man proceeded to capture every bit of Tony’s attention. A faded red henley stretched over his broad shoulders, his long dark hair framed a striking jawline, and storm-grey eyes met Tony’s from across the room. So, this was Bucky Barnes; the news photos hadn’t done him justice. 

At first glance, Tony wouldn’t have even noticed anything was wrong; Barnes was leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. But a closer look showed his left sleeve was empty starting somewhere around his elbow, and the casual lean was really anything but, with Barnes holding his shoulders in an odd half-hunch as if to shield himself against the world. 

Sam slid into the booth and gestured for Tony to follow. “So, this is Tony. Tony Carbonell.” As part of his new beginning at M.I.T., Tony had taken his mother’s maiden name as his own. It was mostly as a middle finger to his father, but also a way to prove to himself that he wasn’t just riding Howard Stark’s coattails. So far, so good. 

Tony had revealed his real name to a few people he could trust -- Rhodey and Sam among them -- and all his official documentation still said ‘Stark’ of course, but Tony had his name change request paperwork all filled out and he was just waiting for his 18th birthday to file it. It would probably be the final straw for his father and Tony fully expected to be disinherited, but at this point he didn’t really care. Obie had confirmed that the trust his mother had set up was untouchable, so he could finish out his time at M.I.T. and start a career without worrying about money. 

“Tony, meet Steve Rogers,” Sam said. The blond held out a long, slim hand across the table. Among the buttons on Rogers’ scarf, Tony spotted a rainbow M.I.T. logo and an ace pride flag. That would make this whole thing a lot easier; being the token queer in any group got old quickly. 

“And this is James Barnes, Bucky to his friends.” A curt nod was the only acknowledgement; he was apparently the strong, silent type. 

“So, I hear you guys are planning a road trip and looking for a couple of people to join you,” Tony said. “What’s your destination?”

“Food first,” Barnes responded gruffly, and Rogers waved down the waitress. They ordered breadsticks, and two extra-large pizzas. Barnes and Sam got a couple of beers, but Rogers opted for a soda, saying he wasn’t much of a drinker. Relieved, Tony ordered a Coke as well; he wasn’t up for getting carded in front of his new acquaintances. 

As soon as the breadsticks arrived, Rogers pulled a pill bottle out of his pocket. Something in Tony’s expression must have caught his attention. “It’s a legit script -- pain management,” he explained belligerently, opening the bottle and passing a dose to Barnes. Made sense, child proof caps were a bitch even when you had both hands. 

“Sorry,” Tony apologized. “It’s just that a guy I was dating was a bit of a pill popper.” That was an understatement; Ty Stone (in retrospect, a terribly apt surname) had never met a drug he wasn’t willing to try. His preferred method of consumption was in tablet form, however, and he almost always had something on him as well as in him. It had taken an embarrassingly long time for Tony to come to his senses and dump the asshole.

A thoughtful expression flickered over Barnes’ face before he replied, “Understandable. Trying to wean myself off ‘em, actually. And don’t get me started on ex-boyfriends.” He took only one of the two tablets Rogers had handed him, garnering him a dirty look from his pal. 

“Needing meds isn’t a moral failing, Buck.” 

“ ‘Course not, Steve. But you know I don’t like the way they make me feel, all fuzzy headed. I’m s’posed to be getting better, and it doesn’t seem like they’re helping.” This was obviously a well-worn argument, and Tony felt a little uncomfortable to be witnessing it. Thankfully, the pizza arrived and interrupted their discussion. 

Over their meal, the four of them spent some time getting to know each other. Rogers’ voice was surprisingly deep for a small guy, while Barnes’ was just as sexy as the rest of him; a smoky baritone with a New York accent that came out strong when he and Rogers got going. Barnes could probably read a log table out loud and Tony would get hot and bothered listening to it. The ‘ex-boyfriends’ comment just further sparked Tony’s interest; even if Barnes were way, way out of his league, there was no harm in enjoying the scenery. 

Tony discovered that Barnes was pursuing a civil engineering degree and he and Rogers planned to set up shop together back in Brooklyn after graduation. “But before we buckle down and try to act like grownups,” Rogers explained, finally getting around to the reason they were there, “we figured it was time to do the traditional ‘college road trip’ thing. Ever since we were kids, Bucky n’ me have wanted to see the Grand Canyon.” 

“You do know that it’s about three thousand miles from here, right?” Tony and Sam glanced at each other -- did these two really intend to drive cross country and back in a week? 

“2600 miles one way - roughly eighty hours driving time total.” Barnes clarified. “Figure we need to average about 575-600 miles a day. If we leave early on Friday, so much the better.” Tony ran the numbers in his head, and Barnes was right. It wouldn’t leave too much time for sightseeing, but with four drivers it was doable. 

Sam grinned. “ It’ll make for a hell of a story, if nothing else. Besides I won’t have much control over my life once I deploy. I’m in. How about you, Tony?” 

Tony had never done anything like this before. When his parents had bothered to include him on vacations, they flew in a company jet to visit exotic locales and had a local driver. Tony had seen the Grand Canyon from 20,000 feet many times, but had never been there ... or much of anywhere in flyover country, for that matter. 

“Sure, why not?” he replied, sounding more confident than he felt. “As long as we’re not camping, or sleeping in the car.” 

“I draw the line at roughing it, too,” Sam said. “I vote hotel all the way.” 

Rogers concurred, “Buck ‘n me already planned to share a room. Don’t know about you guys.” 

Tony could easily afford his own hotel room, but he knew money was tight for Sam, so agreed to split the cost of a room with his friend. “Although if you snore, I’m reneging on the offer, flyboy.” 

“So, what are we driving?” Sam asked. “My Junebug wouldn’t make it half that distance, to say the least of holding all four of us and any luggage.” 

“I’ve got a VW Passat wagon,” Barnes replied. “Plenty big enough. Decent gas mileage too. She may not look like much--” 

“‘But she’s got it where it counts, kid’?” Tony completed the quote, and was pleased to see a bit of a grin on Barnes’ face. He was even more handsome when he smiled. 

“Oh no,” Sam said, “Do not start quoting movies around Tony. This boy can conduct entire conversations with nothing but lines from his favorite flicks. I’ve seen him do it, and that’s the truth.” 

“ ‘You can’t handle the truth!’ ” Tony and Barnes chorused, their minds obviously moving on the same track. 

As the two of them mock-argued about jinxes and who owed whom a Coke, Rogers put his head in his hands. “Oh God. We’ve created a monster.” 

 

They met again the following week to work out logistics, this time at a coffeehouse not too far from campus. Sam was all for setting up a timetable and making hotel reservations along a pre-planned route, while Rogers was very much a ‘fly by the seat of your pants’ kind of guy. Tony half expected him to just pull out a compass and shout ‘That-a-way’ once they got in the car. 

Personally, he fell somewhere in-between; setting a basic route was important, but flexibility in their schedule would allow for a bit of spontaneity along the way. And serendipitous discoveries were always the best. Barnes kept out of the argument entirely, instead striking up a conversation with Tony. 

“Sam says you built yourself a robot.” Barnes kept his arms held close across his chest -- it seemed to be his default posture -- as he leaned back a bit in his chair. His dark green shirt, already unfairly tight across the shoulders, rode up slightly to show a sliver of skin at his waist. 

Tony tried desperately not to stare as he replied, “Dum-E is more than a robot, he’s a Digital Mechanical Entity. He has independent motion and control of his integrated camera and arm assembly. I programmed him with self-learning algorithms. He responds to some simple voice commands and I’m working on programming another set.” 

Barnes raised his eyebrows. “So, you gendered your robot? How heteronormative of you.” His out-of-left-field response threw Tony for a loop. But then he saw the grin ghosting around the edges of Barnes’ mouth, twisting the edges of those full, pouty lips ever so slightly, and realized he was being teased. 

“I didn’t build him a dick, if that’s what you’re implying,” Tony shot back. “Besides, I'd love my ‘bot just the same no matter how Dum-E chooses to identify.” 

“Fair enough,” Barnes replied, his eyes (which apparently changed color slightly depending on what color he was wearing) sparkling with amusement. “I’d like to see Dum-E sometime, sounds pretty impressive.” He startled slightly, then pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Damn, forgot I had a PT appointment. I gotta run, guys.” Tony couldn’t help but watch him leave; the view from behind nearly as attractive as from the front. But he winced when Barnes got to the exit and had to reach awkwardly across himself to open the inward and left-swinging door, combining a pull, then a push to finally make his exit. 

“Hey, Rogers,” Tony asked, “Do you know if Barnes has looked into getting a prosthetic?” That was apparently the wrong question to ask, as Rogers promptly went into a lengthy diatribe about the state of healthcare, how insurance companies profited off the chronically ill and disabled, and ableism in society as a whole. Considering Steve's fauxhawk and colorful scarf, Tony couldn’t help but think of an angry cockatoo video he’d seen once on YouTube. 

“So that would be a ‘no’,” Tony said, when he could get a word in edgewise. “I only asked because I’m working on a project and could use his help. It’s an interdisciplinary exploration of the current state of upper limb prosthetics in terms of their control systems. It wouldn’t hurt to be able to work with someone for whom this is more than an intellectual exercise.” 

“Oh,” Rogers responded, looking a little sheepish, “well, in that case, he might be interested in talking with you about it.” That was all the encouragement Tony needed. He’d only fibbed a little: while that was the topic he was interested in; he hadn’t really gotten started yet and besides, it was only a twenty-page paper and he could write one of those in his sleep. Tony made a mental note to email his science bro, Bruce, for help on the neuroscience end of things, because now he had the itch to build and tinker. And if said itch could help his new acquaintance, all the better.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys begin their adventure, with Niagara Falls as their first stop. Tony's project-in-process triggers Bucky; apologies are made and Tony and Bucky start to build their friendship.

“Westward ho!” Tony shoved his duffel and pillow into the cargo area, then set the box he’d been carrying carefully into the back seat, sliding in next to it. He and Bruce had put in long hours on this precious cargo, and Tony was eager to show it off. 

“Whatcha got there, champ?” Barnes asked, turning around to check out the box. “You know we’re pretty much at capacity already.” Sam gave Tony some side-eye from his spot behind Barnes as Rogers peered through the rearview mirror at them both. 

“You’ll see when we stop tonight,” Tony answered mysteriously, unable to resist keeping everyone in suspense. “Are we doing lunch before we leave, or grabbing and going?” 

“Grab and go - wanna get ahead of the outbound traffic.” Rogers answered, putting the car into gear. They ran through a drive-in and were escaping the Greater Boston area just a bit after noon. 

“Steve, was your driving instructor a Brooklyn cabbie?” Sam asked, holding on to the oh-shit handle as Rogers wove in and out of traffic, using his horn as if it were a telegraph key spelling out various obscenities. 

“Pretty much,” Barnes answered dryly, adjusting his seatbelt but otherwise oblivious to the vehicular shenanigans his buddy was currently engaged in. “My aunt Mildred taught us both to drive during her off hours. I’ve managed to throw off most of the bad habits we picked up, but Steve, not so much.” Tony didn’t find Rogers’ driving all that hair-raising; having grown up in L.A. with motorcyclists splitting lanes; not much could faze him anymore. 

They hit the road hard that day, pausing for only for pit stops and to switch out drivers. Barnes took over once they were past Springfield, then Sam picked up driving duties in Syracuse. They stopped for the night in a suburb of Buffalo and since they were about 6 hours ahead of schedule, they decided to take a side trip to Niagara Falls in the morning. Sam -- who was in charge of logistics -- found a couple of rooms at an independent hotel for less than they’d budgeted, so they splurged on pizza and beer for dinner. 

Tony, perhaps a bit loopy after spending the majority of the drive tweaking code on his tablet, found the name of the nearby cities inexplicably humorous. “Aw, c’mon, guys, say it with me. Cheektowaga. Cheek-to-wa-ga! And look - Tonawanda! I love Native American city names.” 

“Some British names are weird to pronounce, too,” Barnes mused. “Take Leominster or Gloucester, for example. And I’ve always been fond of Athol.” 

Before Tony could help himself, he responded, “Me too, thweetheart,” in the campiest voice he could manage, playfully poking at Barnes’ good shoulder. Tony hoped he had read his audience correctly; even Sam hadn’t spent all that much time around him, compared to Rhodey. 

But Rogers cackled like a loon, and Barnes’ low laugh was music to Tony’s ears. Sam simply shook his head and grumbled, “Tell me you two planned that shit ahead of time.” 

“Nope, just got lucky,” Tony replied, catching his breath after his own bout of laughter. 

“Was it good for you too, darlin’?” Barnes chipped in, and damn him if he didn’t actually smirk and wink at Tony as he delivered that line. 

Tony nearly choked, and was thankful when Sam reminded him about his promise to reveal what was in the box. “Not Gwenyth Paltrow’s head, I hope?” 

“Oh, and you give me grief about movie references, Samwise? Besides, that’s the wrong deadly sin -- try Pride instead.” Tony replied as he lifted his latest creation out of the box. “Meet Dum-E Junior. Or Dem-E, if you prefer. Ze isn’t as smart as zir older sibling,” Tony gave Barnes a grin as he used the non-gendered pronouns,” in fact, most of zir brain is actually a program still on my tablet. But ze has an important job, nonetheless: to help me with my interdisciplinary project and maybe convince M.I.T. to start offering a robotics major.” 

“I’m gonna need some help from you guys, though.” Tony pulled out the bag of electrodes and a tube of conductive gel. “Who wants to be the first to hook up with Dem-E?” 

Barnes blanched, then stalked out of the room without a word. Rogers muttered, “Son of a bitch,” and gave Tony a poisonous look. Tony was flabbergasted. He hadn’t expected effusive thanks, but why was Barnes so upset all of a sudden?

“What’d I do, Rogers?” 

“Bucky spent nearly two weeks in the ICU after his accident,” Rogers replied angrily. “They had to keep him doped up so he wouldn’t tear the IV and monitors out. You said you just wanted to talk to him, and here you come with your wires to do who knows what just to have yourself a damn guinea pig.”

“I ... I didn’t even think of it that way,” Tony stammered in apology, his guts twisting with sudden guilt. “I am so sorry. You have to believe me. Sam, tell him how I tend to go overboard when I latch onto an idea.” 

“Tony means well, Steve, but yeah, he gets awfully gung-ho sometimes and doesn’t always think the human elements through. Why don’t we go find Bucky and then call it a night.” He handed Rogers the last bottle of the six pack and walked with him out the door. 

Tony felt about two inches high. He packed Dem-E and everything else back up, and shoved the box in a corner. He’d honestly been trying to help, but as usual, had only made things worse. 

When Sam came back, Tony asked. “So, should I buy a bus ticket back to campus?” 

“Nah,” He sat down beside Tony and put a friendly arm around his shoulder. “I think it’s gonna be okay. Let’s get some sleep. Things always look better after a good night’s rest.” 

 

Squinting into the morning light, Tony steeled himself as he walked over to Barnes and Rogers’ hotel room and knocked on the door. Barnes answered the door, dressed for the day in tight jeans and a faded navy blue long-sleeve tee that was a shade too small for him. 

“Listen, I’m sorry. I really am,” Tony blurted out, afraid to let Barnes get a word in edgewise. “I should have talked to you first, explained what I wanted to do with this project, shown you all the studies and our objectives and everything, then gotten your feedback and buy-in before springing the whole human experimentation part on you. I made a mistake and will try to be more thoughtful from now on.” It took everything Tony had to maintain eye contact during his apology; to not lose himself in Barnes' sea-blue gaze.

“Thank you, Tony,” Barnes quietly replied. “S’ok. I kinda overreacted myself, I guess. It’s not like you were gonna strap me down in a chair and run electricity through my skull, right?” His lips quirked into a half smile. “It just reminded me of being back in the hospital, all the equipment and the incessant beeping.” Barnes paused for a moment, a small wrinkle of painful memory appearing between his brows. “I actually do want to hear about more what you’re doing, and maybe I can help you out some after all.” 

“I’d like that, Barnes,” Tony replied with a relieved smile, only to get a raised eyebrow in reply. 

“Seriously? This whole last-name thing has got to stop. You’re makin’ us feel like we’re in the army or something. He’s Steve,” Barnes tossed his head back to reference Rogers, “and I’m Bucky, okay?” 

“Got it,” Tony replied as he shook Bucky’s outstretched hand, trying to ignore the tingle at the base of his spine. Other than the playful poke he’d made at Bucky’s shoulder the night before, this was the first time they’d touched. Bucky’s hand was large and warm, with a few calluses similar to Tony’s own. 

Steve called out, “Now that you two have kissed and made up, how about we get on the road?” 

“Shut it, half-pint!” Bucky snapped out, walking back into the room. “See you in a few, Tony,” he said over his shoulder. Had there been a bit of a blush on Bucky’s cheeks as he turned away? No, it was probably just the morning light making everything look a little pink. 

Tony took the wheel for the short hop up to Niagara Falls; he'd lobbied to visit the Ripley’s Believe it or Not museum, but none of the others wanted to deal with the hassle of crossing an international border. Instead they spent about two hours exploring the park area and the tourist parts of the American side of the falls. 

Steve had pulled out a sketchbook and his pencil moved furiously over the pages as he tried to capture the majesty of the scene. Bucky took photos of the Rainbow and Whirlpool Rapids bridges and was thrilled to find a book that detailed the history and construction of the hydroelectric plants. Tony found himself mesmerized by the falls themselves. They were just so massive and so powerful -- you could hear their thunder from what seemed like a mile away. He’d never considered himself a fan of the outdoors or of nature in general, but perhaps he hadn’t been visiting the right places. 

After a quick lunch, they got back on the road just after noon. Tony once again was in the driver’s seat and Bucky rode shotgun. “You know, this car really does handle well,” Tony commented. Nothing like his Roadster, of course, but that wasn’t a fair comparison. 

“I’ve tinkered with it a bit, at least as much as you can with modern cars. Gimme something at least forty years old and I can make ‘er sit up and beg.” Bucky replied, which piqued Tony’s curiosity. It seemed his new acquaintance was a gearhead. 

“It’s been awhile since I’ve gotten under the hood of anything with an internal combustion engine, myself,” Tony replied. “But when I was growing up, I spent a lot of time hanging out in the garage with our,” he paused awkwardly, realizing how pretentious it would be to mention his family’s chauffeur, “uh, neighbor. The guy was awfully patient, considering I was a nosy kid who never stopped asking questions. Taught me how to swear in Italian too, though I don’t think that was intentional.” 

Bucky chuckled. “What about your dad? Was he a car guy, too?” 

“Oh yeah. Pops spent years restoring a ‘32 roadster to mint condition but he was almost pathologically possessive about it. Never let me get within spitting distance, much less do any tinkering.” Tony let the words roll casually off his lips; he’d come to terms with his father’s lack of affection years ago. 

“Oh.” Bucky responded, a sympathetic look briefly crossing his face. “Well, I learned everything I know from my uncle Leroy. He had a garage over off of Flatbush. Used to spend every weekend I could out there with him, since I was yay high. Probably broke all kinds of OSHA rules, having a kid around all that equipment," he chuckled, a fond smile crossing his face. 

"When I was old enough, he hired me part-time, mostly for sweeping up, doing parts inventory, stuff like that, since I wasn’t a licensed mechanic," Bucky continued. "But he’d let me watch over his shoulder and ask me what I thought needed to be done. I remember this 1963 Mercury Monterey that a pal of his was restoring -- you know, the ones with the power rear window? It was gigantic!” Bucky looked Tony up and down. “You know, I bet you coulda almost laid down flat in the back seat of that car.” 

“I’d expect dinner first, you charmer, you,” Tony shot back. He couldn’t help but flirt with Bucky when given straight lines like that. Not that he expected anything to happen, it was just harmless fun.

“That could be arranged, I s’pose,” Bucky commented nonchalantly. Tony’s imagination promptly served up a scene of making out with Bucky in the backseat of the wagon, the windows steaming over as they got their hands under each other’s clothing. A sudden loud sound started them all; during his distraction, Tony had let the car wander over onto the rumble strip at the side of the road. 

“Sorry about that, guys,” Tony apologized, after the angry protests from the back seat subsided. “How about we take a break?” The mediocre coffee from the diner that morning had worked its way through his system, and he could use another caffeine boost. They pulled off at a handy rest stop, and as Tony looked over the vending machine offerings, Sam sidled up to him. “You’ve got a thing for Bucky, don’tcha, Tones?” He nudged Tony with an elbow. “Even I can see what a good-lookin’ guy he is. And I think he’s got his eye on you.” 

“Might want to get your eyes checked, Wilson,” Tony retorted. “He’s fun to flirt with, but he doesn’t mean anything by it. Besides, as soon as he finds out I won’t even be eighteen til the middle of next month, I’ll drop completely off his radar and become ‘the kid’.” It had happened before; whether it was the specter of statutory rape, or just not wanting to be involved with someone several years their junior, Tony wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter, since the result was the same. 

Tony had checked, and sixteen was the age of consent in Massachusetts. True, there was a law that made reference to persons under 18 years of age “of chaste life”, but yeah, that hardly applied, not after Ty. They’d hooked up about a month before Tony’s seventeenth birthday and he’d gotten a thorough sexual education. But they’d always been safe; even when Ty was high as a kite, Tony had insisted. And his last set of tests had come back clear, so no worries there. 

Tony liked Bucky, he really did. Under his gruff exterior, Bucky was personable, smart as hell, and had a great sense of humour. He also seemed to be bouncing back pretty well from his accident, which spoke to a strength of character that Tony admired. But Tony would be a fool to put whatever friendship he was building with Bucky into danger by falling for the guy. Unfortunately, Bucky was also drop-dead gorgeous, with a casually sexy presence that was hard to overlook. It was going to be an interesting week, that was damn sure.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pop culture sci-fi and a requested demo of Dem-E leads to a bit of Tony and Bucky bonding; Tony comes to the rescue after Bucky forgets to take his meds.

From Niagara Falls, the four of them drove along the coast of Lake Erie through Pennsylvania to Ohio. Bucky took a shift behind the wheel, with Tony navigating. They all got into a discussion about their favorite movies, and of course Star Wars came up. 

“I tell you guys, machete order is the way to go,” Bucky argued. “Episode Four and Five, then Two and Three as flashbacks, to give you the tragic backstory of Vader. Then wrap up with Episodes Six and Seven. I swear, Christensen is so much more palatable that way. ” 

“What about Episode One?” Sam asked. 

Bucky grimaced. “Optional. Definitely optional. Even though that cuts out Darth Maul and Qui-Gon, which is a shame. And yeah, _Rogue One_ leads right into _A New Hope_ , but I think it depends too much on being familiar with the universe. Not as big a deal for fans like us, but for newbies, I’d skip it until you worked through the Saga.” 

“But here’s the real question,” Tony asked, “Luke or Han?” 

“What, no love for my man Lando?” Sam protested. “He was the original owner of the Millennium Falcon, may I remind you. Dude could govern a city and rock a cape like noone’s business.” 

“And Leia Organa doesn’t get half the credit she deserves,” Steve added. “I mean, Han and Luke had absolutely no escape plan at all when they broke her out of her cell. She didn’t hesitate, just grabbed a blaster and shot out the garbage chute door. And on the forest moon of Endor? I bet she was the one who convinced the Ewoks to join the rebel Alliance, even if Threepio had to translate. And she used the chains Jabba enslaved her with to kill him. If that’s not feminist ass-kicking, I don’t know what is.” 

“How about you, Buck?” Tony broke in. “Solo or Skywalker?” 

“To be, or to be with?” Bucky replied with a little smirk. “While Luke’s life on Tatooine kinda sucked, I could empathize with being a nobody who wanted to do something more with his life. Even had a wise old mentor - my uncle LeRoy. Mind you, I never kissed my sister like that, and it wasn’t my dad who gave me this,” and he gestured to his stump. 

The car was silent for a long moment before Steve let out a low whistle and said, “Jesus, Buck, dark humor much?” Sam snorted, which Tony took as permission to exhale. 

“So does that mean you wanna make the Kessel Run with Han?” Tony asked, trying to get the light-hearted discussion back on track. 

“All 12 parsecs’ worth,” Bucky grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “What can I say? I have a weakness for dark-haired, dark-eyed scoundrels. Especially ones with good taste in transportation. How about you, Tony?” 

“I wanted to be Han, mostly because of the Falcon, but also because of Chewbacca -- someone who sticks by your side through thick and thin. Didn’t really have friends growing up.” Tony admitted. “Plus the whole not having to be accountable to anyone else, just doing your own thing.” Huh - he hadn’t expected this question to spark so many personal revelations.

“As for being with?” Tony continued, “Well, my first impulse is to say ‘both’, because I’m greedy like that. But Luke was my first crush, with those amazing blue eyes, gorgeous profile and cute dimple on his chin.” He stopped, realizing he’d pretty much described the man sitting beside him. There was a slight cough from the back seat; well, at least Sam had noticed. “Anyways, yeah - I wouldn’t kick either of them out of my bed for eating crackers.”

“Speaking of crackers, how about we stop for dinner?” Steve asked. Sam took over driving duties after they ate, and Bucky asked Tony if he had any of the research for his project handy. The two of them spent the rest of the drive going through various articles and papers on Tony’s tablet. 

They stopped for the night just the other side of the Indiana state line. At Bucky’s request, Tony brought Dem-E back out and hooked himself up. “Keep in mind this is very much a work in progress. Dem-E is a picky ‘bot and may not want to cooperate.” He didn’t want to build up their expectations too far. Both he and Bruce had tried the rig on, but only had sporadic success with the brainwave translation software actually producing a response. His plan had been to gather more data points by having Sam, Steve and Bucky try it on, but he realized that was asking a bit much without providing a demo with himself as the subject. 

Tony closed his eyes and concentrated. He heard the slight whir of Dem-E’s actuators kicking in, then a gasp from his friends. “What do you know -- it’s actually moving!” He opened his eyes to confirm that Dem-E had raised its arm and unfurled its fingers from the default closed fist position. Tony rotated the wrist about 90 degrees, then managed a shaky, clumsy wave. They all cheered and applauded, which unfortunately broke his concentration, and the arm collapsed. 

Bucky’s eyes were shining with excitement and wonder. “You built this? You really built all of this?” 

“Not all by myself. I had a lot of help from my colleague, Bruce Banner; he’s the medical brains of the outfit. We wrote the software together and I built the ‘bot,” Tony explained. “The real researchers actually perform surgery to place an electrode array over the appropriate part of the brain to get the input. The readings via the scalp electrodes are naturally a lot weaker and subject to interference from other parts of the brain. We’re working on signal boosting as well as filtering algorithms in the software but we’ve got a long way to go.” 

“Mind if I take a peek?” Bucky asked shyly. “I’m no computer genius, but sometimes explaining stuff to someone else helps you see where to go next.” 

As Tony passed his tablet over to Bucky, Sam stretched and yawned. “I think I’m gonna turn in. Steve, how about you come bunk with me and we let these two nerds burn the midnight oil?” When Steve agreed, Sam added, “I’ll bring your duffel over, Tony.” 

“Thanks,” Tony responded as he detached the electrodes, knowing if he actually made eye contact with Sam, there would be a Significant Look pointed in his direction. Sam was an inveterate matchmaker -- he’d gotten Rhodey and Carol together, and had now apparently set his sights on Tony and Bucky. Like that was going to happen.

As Tony walked Bucky through his program, they lost track of time; it was nearly one o’clock in the morning before they realized it. “Oh man, we better call it a night,” Tony said. “Let me go wash this goop out of my hair and we can hit the sack. Which bed do you want?” 

“I’ll take the one near the window, if that’s okay.” By the time Tony finished his shower, Bucky was already in bed, under the covers. Tony was just slipping off to sleep when he heard a muffled sound of pain, followed by a muttered “Fuck.” 

“You okay over there?” 

“Forgot to take my meds.” Bucky’s voice was tight, as if he were clenching his teeth. 

“I’ll get them - where are they?” Tony turned the light back on. 

“Hopefully somewhere near the sink.” The bottle was easily located and Tony shook out two pills and filled a glass with water. Bucky had shifted into a seated position; he was wearing a t-shirt and about two inches of his stump, encased in a white cotton sock, showed from beneath the sleeve. “Sorry - it ain’t a pretty sight,” he apologized, taking both pills from Tony, followed by the water. 

“No apologies needed,” Tony shrugged awkwardly, not sure what else to say. He figured it was just as rude to obviously not look as it would be to stare.

“I’ve got a silicon sleeve that I wear during the day that helps with the pain and phantom sensations,” Bucky continued, as if talking helped distract him. “But I’m supposed to let it rest and get some air at night, so I wear this cloth sleeve instead. Sometimes I’ll get Steve to help me bandage it up tight and that helps tamp them down.” 

“It’s not the arm itself that’s causing the pain? ” Tony scoured back through his memory; he’d read about phantom sensations during his research, as well as treatment options. 

“No, it’s healing up fine - it’s my damn brain. It might sound crazy, but right now my left fist is clenched so tight that my fingernails are digging right into my palm.” Bucky was breathing heavily, and his forehead was creased with pain. “It’ll take a while for the meds to kick in. Go back to sleep, champ -- I’ll try not to keep you up.” 

“I’ve got an idea,” Tony said, “tho it might seem a little offbeat.”

“Porn? Already tried it - not enough of a distraction.” Bucky smiled, but it was strained, and he’d gone a little pale. 

Tony bit down on the wild impulse to offer more direct erotic stimulation. Instead, he said, “No, it’s a legit therapy method, in fact, you might already be familiar with it. Hold on a sec.” He took the desk chair and rolled it across the room, placing it perpendicular to the half-open bathroom door. He held out a hand to Bucky. “Do you trust me?” 

“Might as well, streetrat,” And with a more genuine smile, Bucky came over and sat in the chair. Tony scooted it forwards, close enough that Bucky had to straddle the the door with the edge of it nearly touching his chest. Bucky's left shoulder and stump were positioned on one side, and the rest of him was on the other, where a full-length mirror hung. 

“Okay, so hold out your right arm and position it to match what your left arm and hand is doing,” Tony instructed. Bucky raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told, making such a tight fist that his knuckles turned white. Tony stepped behind Bucky’s right shoulder, out of view. 

“Now, look in the mirror, and focus on your arm, Bucky. I want you to relax your hand, nice and slow. Joint by joint, muscle by muscle. Everything moving loose and easy.” Speaking slowly and gently, with just a bit of sing-song rhythm, Tony coaxed Bucky into letting his hand go completely limp, reminding him to keep his eyes on his reflection. 

“Good. Now stretch your fingers out wide, still nice and slow.” Tony said. “Like you’re going to palm a basketball, but it’s in a vat of molasses. There we go, pal -- just a little further, you want to feel a bit of stretch. Hold it for me, just a couple of beats.” Bucky’s shoulders were no longer held quite so tensely, and his breathing had evened out. 

Tony changed his wording just slightly, hoping for a subliminal effect. “I want you to relax your hands now, Buck. Slow and easy. Feel at how all that tension just slides away. Let your fingers droop down, your wrists go limp, everything’s just good and loose, isn’t it? Okay, let’s stretch ‘em out again, give me slow-motion jazz hands. All ten fingers waving in the air, like you just don’t care.” 

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” Bucky breathed. “It’s working. My left hand, the fingers are moving -- just a little, but they’re moving!” His sigh of relief, almost a moan, made Tony go a little weak in the knees; but he stayed focused, continuing his slow, gentle instructions. They repeated the cycle a few more times, Bucky staring intently into the mirror, slowly flexing his hand and fingers. With another large sigh, he dropped his arm into his lap. 

“It’s magic, Tony. Absolute magic.” Bucky’s words were slightly slurred; it seemed his pain meds had started taking effect. 

“Nope - just using proprioception and visual feedback to stimulate your primary motor cortex. You’ll have to tell your PT team about it. Think you can get to sleep now?” 

“Sure.” Bucky pushed the seat back and went to stand, but nearly lost his balance. Tony put his shoulder under Bucky’s good one, wrapped an arm around his waist and walked him back to bed, trying very hard not to think about the warm expanse of skin pressed against him, with just their thin t-shirts inbetween. 

“You’re a real nice guy, Tony, do you know that?” Bucky murmured, leaning heavily on Tony as they sat down on his bed. Yep - the pills had definitely kicked in. “I mean, Sam is too, but you ‘specially. And smart. God you’re smart, Tony. Always liked smart guys. Dunno what I ever saw in Brock.” He reached up and clumsily caressed Tony’s cheek. “Y’r cuter than him, too.” Bucky’s eyes drooped as a dopey grin crossed his face. 

“Okay, sunshine. Time for beddy-bye.” Tony said, blushing furiously as he stood up, allowing Bucky to lay down. “Not that you’re gonna remember this in the morning, but I gotta say you’re something pretty special yourself.” Tony pulled the covers up over his friend. “Sweet dreams, Buck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Mirror therapy]() is a legitimate treatment for phantom limb pain; even if I sped up the response/results for the purposes of this fic. Tony also had to improvise, but that’s something he excels at!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road trippers stop in St. Louis for a trip up in the Arch; Tony tries to deny his growing feelings for Bucky, but Sam knows better. After another long day of driving, an accidental discovery causes conflict.

Tony woke to the smell of coffee. Cheap, slightly burnt and almost guaranteed to be bitter, but coffee nonetheless. He rubbed his face as he sat up, stretching out a hand towards the cup Bucky held out to him. “You are my new best friend.”

“Talking to me or the coffee, champ?”

“Oh, definitely you. Until someone invents self-filling coffee cups that deliver themselves. In that case I, for one, would welcome our new caffeinated overlords.” He took a sip and grimaced slightly. 

“Wasn’t sure how you took your joe, but sugar ‘n creamer are over on the table.” Tony slid out of bed and padded over to grab a half-dozen packets of sugar, stacking them together to tear off the tops and dump them into his cup all at once. Bucky smiled and shook his head. 

“You don’t do anything by half-measures, do you, Tony?” 

“Don’t see the point. Thank you, by the way.” Tony tilted the cup in Bucky’s direction. He’d obviously gone to some effort; it couldn’t have been easy for him to carry everything back to their room.

“No problem. Thanks for helpin’ me out last night. That mirror trick is something else.” Bucky shook his head and grinned, as if he couldn’t believe it. 

“Isn’t it though? Seems almost too simple to work, but it does.” Tony took a large sip of his coffee, which was almost tolerable with all that sugar. “Let’s get cleaned up and check on our travel buddies.” 

Steve and Sam were already packing their bags back into the car as Tony and Bucky exited the hotel room. “We were just about to bang on your door, guys,” Steve said. 

“Had a rough night,” Bucky replied. “My arm was acting up, but Tony helped out.” 

“Did he now?” The tone of Sam’s question, combined with his raised eyebrow, made Tony’s cheeks grow warm as he shot his friend a warning look. 

“Yeah - it was the damndest thing...” Bucky then quickly summarized their session with the mirror. Steve gave Tony a speculative glance as Bucky finished the story, which made Tony a little uncomfortable. What exactly had he and Sam talked about once they were alone?

Sam took the wheel for the first shift, asking Steve to navigate, as they’d apparently already plotted out the route for the day: a straight shot across Indiana and Illinois, with a stop around lunchtime in St. Louis to go up in the Arch. From there, they were shooting to get close to the Missouri - Oklahoma border. A quick run through a bakery drive through for breakfast and they were on their way. 

Despite the coffee in his system, Tony’s eyes started drooping; the grey skies and empty farm fields provided no visual stimulation, and he had just enough of a headache to not feel like doing anything on his tablet. He’d laid awake for quite a while the night before, Bucky’s words running through his mind. It had been the drugs talking, of course; but in vino, veritas, right? 

Closing his eyes, Tony remembered all the hurtful but true things Ty would say when he was flying high -- that Tony would never measure up to his father (revealing his true identity to Ty was one of many mistakes in that relationship Tony regretted), how he was too self-centered, and immature to make friends on campus, how Ty was the best thing that had, or would, ever happen to him. Maybe Bucky did see him as a nice guy, but he didn’t really know Tony yet; just wait a little while and Tony would screw things up, like he always did. 

“Hey, champ,” a quiet voice roused him from his half-asleep state; he realized the warm, firm surface he’d been resting his head against was Bucky’s shoulder. 

“Hm? Oh, sorry,” Tony pulled back, doubly embarrassed to have been caught not only napping, but napping on someone else. 

“S’ok. Thought you might want to see these.” ‘These’ being the dozens of turbines standing in rows along the highway. It was a wind farm, and a pretty big one. “We passed a truck hauling one of the turbine blades just a little bit ago - it was huge! Had to be twice as long as a tractor trailer.” 

“Yeah - they’ve got farms like this out in Southern California, scattered over the mountains. Don’t think the turbines are quite this big, though.” That drew them into a discussion of wind energy and how to optimize a power grid to take advantage of such an inconstant energy source. It was a little out of his wheelhouse, but he found it fascinating to hear Bucky talk so animatedly about a topic. Tony thought back to their first meeting, when Bucky had barely said two words to him and Sam. They’d come a long way in just a few weeks. 

 

Driving over the Mississippi river, they arrived in Saint Louis proper just after one o’clock and Steve got his camera out to snap photos of the skyline. As they walked up to the base of the Gateway Arch, Tony craned his head back; even in the pale late-March sunlight, the aluminum skin of the monument shone. “I’m getting tickets to go up to the top right now,” Bucky said, from a nearby picnic table, as he tapped on his phone. Tony realized how awkward even something as simple as using a smartphone must be for Bucky, and it only strengthened his determination to do something to help. 

“I guess this isn’t the time to tell y’all I’m claustrophobic,” Sam said, looking dubiously at the capsule waiting to take them up to the observation deck. He’d already slipped up, referring to it as an elevator and Steve had sternly corrected him. 

“It’s a tram system - and it works like a cross between a Ferris wheel and an elevator. We’re one of eight capsules and we’re going to rotate 155 degrees during the trip.” 

“Excuse me?” Sam squawked, balking at entering the pod. “And where are the seatbelts?” 

“The outer shell of the capsule rotates - we stay nice and vertical, Sam,” Tony reassured his friend as he gave him a gentle push. Bucky snickered; he’d already claimed one of the forward facing seats with Steve sitting across from him. The pod was cramped quarters, with Steve and Sam practically banging knees with Bucky and Tony. 

It turned out that the capsule door was almost entirely glass, and therefore provided an excellent view of the inside of the Arch. Of course, Bucky wanted to get to get a good look at the scaffolding holding up the tram track and stairs -- as Steve explained, the Arch itself was supported entirely by its outer skin -- which meant he had to lean across Tony. 

When Bucky put his hand on Tony’s thigh for balance, Tony held his breath. It was bad enough that he could practically bury his face in Bucky’s hair -- something Tony had been wanting to do pretty much since he laid eyes on the guy -- but to have so much of the other man’s body pressed up against him so casually was wreaking havoc with his system. Tony mentally started reciting the Fibonacci sequence, letting the spirals slowly unfurl within his mind’s eye. 

Sam practically battered the door down in his eagerness to get out of the capsule, with Tony close behind; his nostrils were full of Bucky’s scent and he needed to clear his head. The room at the top of the Arch was a lot smaller than Tony had expected, and the windows themselves were downright tiny, only about eight inches tall, although nearly a yard wide. The walls also angled outward, which meant Sam and Bucky both had to lean and bend forward awkwardly in order to look outside. Tony had to admit, it was quite a view. 

They spent the better part of an hour on the observation deck; Bucky and Steve were tag-teaming the Ranger on duty, asking her all about the construction and maintenance of the Arch, while Sam was simply trying to put off having to get back in the tram capsule for the trip back down. Tony, of all people, finally had to take charge, herding his friends towards the exit for the return trip: “Yes, Bucky, you can sit by the door this time. No, Sam, I don’t think they’ll make an exception and let you take the stairs. Yes, Steve, we’ll hit the gift shop before we leave.” 

They drove another five hours that day, stopping near Joplin, Missouri. Sam seemed surprised to have Tony follow him into the hotel room. “Figured you and Bucky were gonna shack up again tonight, Tones.” He wiggled his eyebrows in a parody of suggestiveness. 

“Really, Sam? I told you before, I don’t have a chance in hell with someone like him. We’ve got a friend thing going, that’s all.” 

“Uh huh,” Sam replied skeptically. “Waking me up this morning with a text asking if I knew how you liked your coffee, that’s ‘a friend thing.’ Not moving a muscle when you fell asleep on his shoulder, that’s ‘a friend thing.’ To say the least of his hand on your thigh there in the elevator.” Sam pursed his lips and shook his head, all but actually calling Tony a dumb-ass white boy. 

“I swear, Sam, you have one successful love match and you think you’re Cupid.” 

“C’mon, dude, I’m just pointing out the obvious.” 

“No, Sam. What’s obvious is that this,” and Tony held out his phone for Sam to see, “is the kind of guy he goes for.” Bucky’s mention of the name ‘Brock’ the night before had piqued Tony’s curiosity. So that afternoon in the car, Tony had done a bit of Googling. He found a Brock Rumlow listed on the roster of the water polo team; a few clicks around various social media sites later and he found a photo of the two of them together, Bucky kissing Brock on the cheek. Tony had left the page open and that’s what he showed Sam. 

“I’m not even gonna ask how you found that,” Sam said with a disapproving look, “but I bet it wasn’t on any of Bucky’s accounts. Besides, I distinctly remember him using the term ‘ex-boyfriend’.” 

“Yeah, but if that’s the kind of guy he wants, well, I’ve got nothing that can compete.” Tony flipped to a photo of the water polo team. Brock wasn’t quite as tall as Bucky, but he was nicely built and ruggedly handsome. “Besides, maybe they’re the type to be on-again, off-again.” 

“Damnit, Tony, you are bound and determined to find a way to make yourself miserable, aren’t you? Fine, you and Bucky are ‘just friends’, and I’ll stay out of your business. Now, let’s hit the sack.” 

 

The sky was bleak the next morning, with clouds that hung oppressively over the landscape. The wind was cold and raw, with bouts of sleet in the forecast. It seemed as if none of them had slept well. Bucky in particular had dark circles under his eyes; he shuffled out to the car and curled up in the back seat, using his jacket as a pillow. It was Tony’s turn to drive, and Steve volunteered to navigate. Not that there was a lot of navigation to do -- take I-44 to I-40 west, with the day’s endpoint planned for somewhere around Amarillo, Texas. 

Tony tried the radio, but after hitting three religious stations in a row, turned it back off. Bucky had kluged an auxiliary jack into his sound system, so Tony plugged his phone in and put his playlist on random. Steve swapped places with Tony in Tulsa, then Sam took the wheel in Oklahoma City; the drive was so boring that they were switching out more often just to stay alert. 

Bucky took the last shift of the day, pulling into the hotel parking lot a little after seven o’clock. They were stopping a bit short of their average per-day mileage, but between the awful weather and the lack of towns west of Amarillo for the next hundred or so miles, it seemed the wise decision. 

Tony helped Steve and Bucky carry their stuff in; since one of Steve’s meds was supposed to be kept cold, they’d brought a small, plug-in cooler. Tony was probably imagining it, but he thought there was a flash of disappointment on Bucky’s face when he got back in the car with Sam to drive down to the other end of the building where their room was. 

About a half-hour later, Bucky knocked on the door. “Tony, can I talk to you for a moment? Alone?” Tony propped the door open with the security lock and followed Bucky a few steps down the open-air corridor. 

“What’s up?” Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a familiar-looking wallet. 

“I found this on the ground outside our room," he said flatly. "Took a look inside, to see who it belonged to. Seems to be the property of an Anthony Stark.” Tony could feel the blood drain from his face as Bucky gave him a cold, distrustful look. “Maybe you’ve heard of the guy. Guess he's the heir to Stark Industries. Howard Stark’s grandson.” 

“Son, actually,” Tony cut in, unable to help himself. “My mom is... was... quite a bit younger than my dad.” 

“Either way, he’s gotta be rolling in cash, ya know?” Bucky’s expression had gone hard as he continued the pretense. “Makes me wonder what he’s doing in a neighborhood like this. Maybe the poor little rich kid thought he’d see how the other 99% lives for awhile. Must be killin’ him to have to share a room in a cheap hotel, though, and skip the fancy restaurants in favor of fast food and pizza joints.” 

With a sharp smile, Bucky tapped the wallet against his cheek, as if in thought. “Wonder if he’s getting bored yet? Wouldn’t surprise me if Stark’s already made plans to have one of Daddy’s corporate helicopters fly in and pick him up at the Canyon, all dramatic-like, leaving his so-called ‘friends’ behind. The kid’s probably already planning out the tales he’ll tell Chad and Muffy back at the country club about his time hanging out with the working stiffs.” 

Tony’s stomach roiled as he fought to keep both his temper and his tears in check. “If that’s what you think this is all about, Barnes,” he snapped, snatching his wallet out of the other man’s hand as he stalked back to the hotel room, “then you don’t know me at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I can write a multi-chapter fic without at least one cliffhanger... but not to worry, there will be a happy ending for our boys!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a stressful night for Tony, Bucky apologizes for jumping to conclusions, and they more or talk things out. After another long day of travel, Tony springs for a couple of nice hotel rooms that evening, and everyone takes some time to relax before finally reaching their destination.

Tony slammed the door shut and threw his wallet across the room. “Goddamnit!” 

“What the hell, Tony?” Sam looked up in surprise. 

“My wallet somehow ended up in the parking lot, and Barnes found it.” 

Sam blinked. “Sounds like a piece of luck to me, considering. So what’s got you riled?” 

“Well, he looked inside to see who it belonged to,” Tony explained, and Sam’s look of confusion slowly changed to concern. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, ‘oh’.” Tony went on to repeat what Barnes had said, struggling to keep his voice even. 

“Man, that’s harsh,” Sam responded in sympathy. “Did you try to explain?” 

“Wouldn’t have done a damn bit of good. He’s already made up his mind that I’m a lying, filthy rich asshole who’s slumming it for shits and giggles.” Tony grabbed his tablet and started researching the best way to get out of this godforsaken town. 

“Not trying to make excuses for the guy, mind you,” Sam said gently, “But could be Bucky’s got a chip on his shoulder. I remember hearing something about his accident and how the other guy only got a slap on the wrist because he could throw money at a fancy lawyer. And Steve told me the financial aid office really screwed Bucky over with having to take a semester off.” 

“Maybe you oughta switch your major to counseling, Wilson,” Tony commented wryly as he completed his search. “Well, looks like the first flight out of town isn’t til tomorrow morning. You’re stuck with Richie Rich for one more night.” 

“Get your ass over here, Tony,” Sam said, and held his arms out. Tony sank into his friend’s embrace with a frustrated sigh. “You know I don’t care about any of that shit, man. You’re a good guy, and it’s Barnes’ fault if he can’t see that. Now, why don’t you get some sleep?” 

“Is that your prescription for everything, Doctor Sam?” 

“Doesn’t cost a thing and the side effects are minimal,” Sam chuckled, clapping Tony on the back as he let him go. “Lights out in ten.” 

But Sam wasn’t practicing what he preached as Tony could see the glow of his smartphone and the flicker of his fingers typing through the darkness. Idly wondering who his friend was texting, Tony rolled over and drifted off to sleep. 

 

Tony was nursing a cup of mediocre coffee early the next morning when they heard a knock at the door. Sam answered it, and Steve and Barnes were standing there. “Can we come in?” Steve asked. At Sam’s nod, they both entered the room and stood there awkwardly a moment before Steve gave his friend a small nudge forward. 

“Tony,” Barnes said, “I want to apologize. As Steve’ll tell you, I have a tendency to jump to conclusions based on incomplete or wrong data. It’s a bad habit for an engineer, or for a decent person, for that matter.” His hand tapped nervously on his thigh, an ashamed, contrite look on his face. “I got some baggage of my own I’m dealing with, I was tired, and I was hurting, but none of that is an excuse. I didn't even let you get a word in edgewise before saying some nasty things I wish I could take back. I don’t blame you if you just want to head home.” So apparently Sam had been texting Steve last night to try to sort things out. 

Taking a big breath, Bucky continued. “But I’ve really enjoyed your company, and hope that you’ll finish out the trip with us. I made a mistake and I’ll try to do better from now on.” Huh - that sounded familiar. And while Tony was still upset about what Bucky had said, he appreciated the effort he was taking to make amends, and took his friend’s proffered hand. 

“Thank you, Bucky,” Tony replied, “I’m sorry you thought I was lying to you, pretending to be something I wasn’t. Carbonell really is my name, or at least it will be once I get all the paperwork taken care of in about two months.” 

“Why the wait?” Steve asked.

“Can’t sign any legal documents until I turn eighteen,” Tony shrugged, trying not to make a big deal of it. Steve’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead, but before he could say anything, Sam broke in. 

“We’ve got a long day ahead of us if we want to get to Flagstaff tonight. Let’s get a move on.” Sam tossed the keys to Tony and called shotgun. They got back on the road and everyone was quiet for awhile; Tony wasn’t sure if it was just because it was early morning, or because of the awkwardness he’d managed to cause. Regardless, he was thankful when Steve made the attempt to break the tension. 

“So, Sam, how did you and Tony meet?” It was interesting to hear Sam’s side of the story as he started with his friendship with Rhodey through the ROTC and then explained how Tony eventually got included in their shenanigans. Tony put his two cents’ worth in occasionally, correcting Sam according to his own recollection of the events. 

“Steve,” Sam asked, once he and Tony had wrapped up telling their tale, “you said once that you and Bucky knew each other since you were kids. Were you neighbors back in the ‘hood or something?” 

Bucky finally spoke up. “Well, it all started when I saw this little punk getting the tar beaten out of him in the alley across from my parents’ apartment...” He and Steve tag-teamed on their story, and by the time they stopped at a rest area so Tony and Sam could switch places, the tense atmosphere had cleared. 

“I thought the Southwest was supposed to be warm,” Steve grumbled, hunching his shoulders against the wind. They’d all made the mistake of leaving their heavy winter coats behind, as Boston was having an early spring. Tony had bundled up in several layers, but was still feeling the cold; Steve at least had his ubiquitous stocking cap and scarf. 

“Guess we shouldn’t have assumed the Wile E Coyote cartoons were nature documentaries,” Bucky replied, grimacing at a sudden gust and rubbing absently at his left arm. Tony wondered if his stump were more sensitive to the cold, adding that to the list of Things to Investigate for his project. 

They stopped for lunch in Albuquerque at a classic 1950’s style diner. On the way into the city, Tony played the appropriate Weird Al song from his playlist and sung along, much to everyone’s amusement. After lunch, Steve took the wheel and Sam played navigator. 

“Hey, Sam, can you move your seat up?” Bucky asked. It had become a joke by now, since if he actually wanted the legroom, he would have sat behind Steve. Sam answered “No,” just like before, and pushed the seat all the way back before bringing it forward again. Even with this indicator that things were getting back to normal, the awkward feeling in Tony’s gut returned as he got in the back seat with Bucky. 

“Carbonell, that’s your mother’s maiden name, right?” Bucky asked quietly, once they were back on the road; Sam had hooked his phone up to the car radio and the smooth crooning of Marvin Gaye played from the speakers.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” Tony couldn’t help but feel a little skittish; the things Bucky had said the night before were still reverberating in his head. 

“Steve found her obituary online. I’m really sorry. I had an aunt with pancreatic cancer and it was pretty awful.” Tony swallowed hard and felt tears prickling the corners of his eyes as he remembered his mother’s last few days and how much pain she’d been in. 

“Hey, hey,” Bucky’s forehead wrinkled with concern as he reached out to pat Tony on the shoulder. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I just wanted to say that I thought it was a nice tribute to your mother, to take her name like that.” He paused for a moment, to let Tony gather himself back together. “Steve found some photos of her, too, from the fundraising galas and such. She seems like she was a lovely lady, and kind. You have her eyes.” 

“Thanks,” Tony replied, a little flustered. His eyes were just brown, nothing at all special compared to Bucky’s. “I still miss her, a lot.” 

“I bet you do,” Bucky replied, squeezing Tony’s shoulder lightly. “And I feel really awful about what I said last night. The smart thing would have been to have asked you what was going on, and not made up some stupid story in my head.” 

“Sam told me a little bit about the fallout from your accident,” Tony countered, “and I can kind of see where you were coming from. We all make mistakes; I proved that just a few days ago. What’s important is that we learn from them.” 

“Spoken like a true engineer,” Bucky smiled just a little. “And then we go on to make exciting new mistakes in the name of progress.” He chuckled and relaxed slightly, but didn’t bother to move his hand from Tony’s shoulder. 

The landscape had gotten much more rugged as they’d approached Albuquerque, starting with the Sandia Mountains, and the two of them spent some time just looking out the window at a landscape very different from what they had been traveling through just the day before. They’d also gained altitude since the morning, and Tony’s ears had popped more than once. 

“Hey, Bucky,” Steve called from the driver’s seat. “We’re coming up on Winslow. What exactly did you want to do here?” 

“S’kinda silly,” he responded self-consciously, “We can skip it if you want to.” 

Tony was intrigued, “No, go ahead. I think I set the bar for ‘silly’ pretty high earlier, considering my duet with Weird Al.” 

“Well, my uncle LeRoy is a big Eagles fan. You remember that old song with the line ‘I’m standing on a corner in Winslow, Arizona’? Well, apparently there’s a corner of town with a park and a statue of Glenn Frye there now, and my uncle asked me to take a picture of it.” 

The street lights had come on by the time they got to the corner in question, and they all piled out to take a look and stretch their legs. After a few selfies, Bucky ended up in the driver’s seat with Steve as his co-pilot. The temperature had dropped at least another ten or fifteen degrees, and they’d all gotten chilled again during their brief outing. 

Tony handed Sam his wallet as they got into the back seat. “Okay, so now that my secret identity has been revealed, let’s take advantage of it. Sam, as our chief logistics officer, how about you find a hotel with a hot tub or something we can soak our chills and aches and pains away in? We’ve put a hell of a lot of miles in over the past few days and deserve to splurge. My treat - no arguments.” 

“How about a hot breakfast, too?” Steve added, a bit wistfully. “Man cannot live on Poptarts and coffee alone. And maybe we could sleep in a little, since we’ve only got about an hour and a half’s drive from Flagstaff to the Grand Canyon National Park.” 

“Capital plan,” Tony agreed in a cheesy British accent, “You’ve got your parameters, Mister Wilson. See what you can come up with.” 

 

They pulled into the hotel parking lot right around eight o’clock, having spent the better part of eleven hours on the road. Sam had managed to secure the last two rooms -- a standard with two double beds and a jacuzzi suite. The hotel did have a hot tub and a pool as well, but they realized belatedly that none of them had packed swim trunks. 

Since Steve and Sam had driven the furthest that day, they got first crack at the jacuzzi, while Bucky went to the fitness room to see if they had any of the equipment he could use for PT, as he hadn’t been keeping up with his exercises like he was supposed to. Bucky had held off on taking his afternoon meds so he could drive, and pushed them off a little further until after his turn at a nice hot soak. “Don’t wanna drown in the hot tub,” he explained. “I’ll have a hard time keepin’ my eyes open as is.” 

In the meanwhile, Tony hung out in their other hotel room, catching up on emails and tweaking code until Steve and Sam returned. “Tag, you’re it,” Steve said, his wet hair sticking up every which way as he came into the room. “We sent Bucky up about a half-hour ago, so he should be about done. Hope you two don’t mind bunking up again.” 

“I know Tony won’t mind one bit,” Sam added with a smirk, nudging Steve. 

Tony reddened as he replied, “Shut it, Wilson. Don’t mind him, Steve -- Sam’s just being a jerk.” 

Steve shrugged. “Dunno about that. Maybe he’s seeing something you aren’t.” 

“You’re no help at all, Rogers,” Tony huffed, grabbing his duffel and snatching the key card from Sam on his way out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another bit of a cliffhanger here, but one with a happier feel to it, I hope. And I can't help but imagine Steve as Lumiere and Sam as Mrs. Potts in that last scene, humming "Something There" under their breath as Tony leaves...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Sam's machinations, sharing a hotel room finally leads to Tony and Bucky sharing their feelings. Our travelers reach their destination - spending the day at the Grand Canyon and Lowell Observatory before returning to the hotel to warm back up.

“Whoa! Sorry! Sorry!” 

Tony averted his eyes as Bucky froze, caught in the act of wrapping a towel around his hips. Tony hadn’t thought to knock, just slid the key card in and opened the door. The short entryway had framed Bucky almost perfectly, and just the brief glimpse he’d gotten of his nearly naked friend had Tony reeling. 

First off, there was the way Bucky’s damp hair -- now slightly wavy -- barely brushed the tops of those magnificent shoulders. Tony had known Bucky was built, but to actually see those bared muscles in action was something else. And his chest and abs, well they were downright lickable. There was a small voice in his head telling him it wasn’t cool to objectify his friend, but damn if he couldn’t help himself. 

“Uh, yeah, so Sam and Steve gave me the go-ahead to come up; I didn’t mean to barge in on you.” Tony apologized, 

“They musta forgot it takes me about twice as long to do most anything, anymore,” Bucky replied, angling his body to hide his left arm from Tony’s view. Which was understandable, but Tony felt a twinge of disappointment, thinking they were beyond that now. 

“So I’ll just duck in here,” Tony said, gesturing at the bathroom, “and have a quick soak while you finish getting ready for bed. Go ahead and turn the lights off when you’re done -- I’ll use my phone as a flashlight.” There, awkwardness minimized. 

Bucky shook his head with a rueful grin and motioned Tony forward. “ ‘Fraid your plan ain’t gonna work out quite that way, champ.” Stepping into the room, Tony discovered that the jacuzzi wasn’t in the bathroom, as he had assumed, but rather was situated right across from the large single king-sized bed. 

“That son of a bitch,” Tony cursed. “Sam went and rented the honeymoon suite!” No wonder he’d had that shit-eating grin on his face. 

Bucky seemed surprisingly unfazed. “He said he got the last two rooms, so we might as well make the best of it.” 

“Okay, so, yeah,” Tony stalled, trying to come up a solution to their conundrum. “I can curl up on the chair and ottoman, they look comfy enough. Or get some extra blankets from housekeeping and sack out in the tub.” 

“Really, Tony?,” Bucky replied, with a note of disbelief. “Look, the bed is huge. It’s not a problem. You can even go ‘no homo’ and put pillows in the middle, if you want.” He rolled his eyes, and Tony realized he was being ridiculous. Surely he could share a bed with a friend -- albeit an incredibly hot friend that he had way too much of a crush on -- and not make it weird. 

Bucky continued, “How about I go change in the bathroom while you get in the tub?” And before Tony could protest that no, he didn’t really need to be getting naked in a jacuzzi right now, thanks just the same, Bucky fixed him with a look. “This was your idea, Tony. You gotta be as stiff and sore as the rest of us and it’ll feel good. Besides, the tub is deep enough that I won’t be able to see much of anything anyways ... more’s the pity.” Bucky grabbed his duffel and disappeared into the bathroom before Tony could fully process that last statement. 

The tub filled more quickly than Tony had expected, and he sighed happily as he sank down into the water. Bucky was right, the hot water and the jets felt amazing on his achy back and tense muscles. He closed his eyes, and barely heard Bucky re-enter the room over the noise of the hot tub jets. 

“Did you take your pain meds, Buck?” 

“Yes, dear,” Bucky sing-songed back. “So now I got you keepin’ an eye on me, too?” There was the sound of something being dragged across the floor, so Tony opened his eyes and twisted around to find Bucky had brought the desk chair over in front of the bathroom door. 

“Whatcha up to?” 

“My arm’s bothering me and I thought I’d try the mirror trick again -- though it didn’t work real well for me when I tried it the other night. Could you maybe come over here when you’re done and talk me through it?” Bucky sounded oddly shy as he made the request, despite the favor being such a small one. 

“No problemo.” Tony turned off the jets. “Uh, would you mind....?” Bucky looked away as Tony took a towel from the stack on the edge of the tub and wrapped it around his hips. He threw another across his shoulders, feeling a little self-conscious after getting a good look at Bucky's physique.

Bucky had put on a pair of shorts and a sinfully tight t-shirt, with the cloth sleeve back on his stump. Tony wanted his friend to be comfortable around him; he hoped Bucky wasn’t covering up for his sake. “So, what are your phantom phalanges doing today?” Tony asked, trying to lighten the mood. 

“Same as last time, clenched fist,” Bucky’s brief, clipped response made Tony wonder just how badly he was hurting and for how long. 

“Okay, sunshine, let’s try and get it loose again.” Tony talked Bucky through the same set of movements as before, relaxing the hand completely, then stretching the fingers out before returning to a neutral position. He stood behind Bucky, reciting his instructions; keeping his voice calm and reassuring, even as his baser instincts were attempting to short-circuit his common sense. 

It would be so easy to reach out and put his hands on Bucky’s shoulders, rubbing circles into the tense muscles with his fingers and thumbs. Then he'd card his fingers through that long, silky hair, moving it out of the way so he could press his lips against the skin just above Bucky’s carotid artery, feeling his pulse race at the contact...

“Tony? You okay?” Bucky’s question snapped Tony back to reality, his own heart beating wildly in his chest. 

“Sorry, just woolgathering. How’re you feeling?” 

“A lot better, thanks. Help me up?” Bucky pushed the door back as Tony came around in front of him. Tony took Bucky’s hand and pulled; he came up easier than Tony had expected, as Bucky practically landed in his arms. “You’re stronger than I thought, champ,” Bucky said, with a touch of a smirk as he leaned into Tony and squeezed his bicep.

“Okay, Bonzo, it’s bedtime for you.” Tony gently pushed Bucky back, patting his chest a little. The pain meds must’ve kicked in real quick. “Which side you want to bunk on?” he asked, walking his friend -- yes, definitely just a friend, nothing more, okay? -- across the room. 

“Right side -- can’t lay on my left.” Tony got Bucky situated, then retreated to the bathroom, ostensibly to get ready for bed, but in reality to splash cold water on his face and remind himself that despite Sam’s machinations, he was not going to hit on Bucky and take a chance that it would damage their friendship. Not only would it make the rest of the trip awkward, but Tony had really enjoyed hanging out with Bucky and Steve and would like to continue to do so when they got back. But if Bucky was going to keep flirting with him like that... “Artoo says the chances against survival are 725 to one,” Tony said to his reflection.

“Artoo has been known to make mistakes, from time to time,” he heard from the other room, followed by a chuckle. Apparently he’d spoken more loudly than he’d thought. “Besides, this room feels more like Dagobah than Hoth, don’tcha think?” Bucky called. “Leave the fan on in the bathroom when you’re done and see if it clears out the humidity a bit.” 

Tony accepted that he couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever, and crossed the room to get in the bed. Bucky had been right - it was huge, with plenty of room between them. He turned out the light and started reciting the digits of pi in an attempt to calm his thoughts. 

“You know,” Bucky said, “I’d forgotten how nice it is to not be sleeping alone. Just hearing someone else’s breathing helps me relax -- keeps the bad dreams away.” 

“Bet you miss your ex, then,” Tony replied, before thinking better of his statement. Sure, go ahead and remind the guy you’re crushing on just how much better he could do. 

Bucky made a dismissive snort. “Not a goddamned bit. Brock was an asshat. A charming one at times, but an asshat.” He paused. “I do miss having a boyfriend, though.” 

Tony took a chance and replied, “So do I.” Holding his breath as he waited to see what Bucky would say or do next, Tony felt the bed shift slightly, There was a rustle of fabric followed by a huff of frustration. 

“Before the accident, I’d be slipping one arm under your pillow right about now and pulling you close with the other,” Bucky’s voice was rough with emotion. “I’d whisper in your ear, tell you what an amazing, sexy man you are and how I think I might be half in love with you already.” Tony’s heart broke even as it soared. 

“Well, nothing’s stopping me from doing any of that,” Tony murmured in reply, “And I’ll see your ‘half in love’ and raise you a quarter of the way.” Moving next to Bucky, Tony cautiously slid his hand between Bucky’s side and his left arm, very aware of the fine line between being too careful with the stump, and not careful enough. “Is this okay?” he asked, splaying his hand across Bucky’s t-shirt-covered chest. 

“Yeah,” Bucky breathed, then pulled Tony’s hand up to his lips and kissed it. “But I‘m afraid ’m fadin’ fast here, champ.” 

Tony yawned. “Me too. G’night, sunshine.” 

 

“Good morning, gentlemen!” Sam greeted them as Tony and Bucky walked up to the table in the hotel’s breakfast room. Steve was digging into a plateful of eggs, pancakes and bacon. “Did you sleep well?” 

Bucky glanced over at Tony and winked. “Well... eventually,” he drawled, letting a satisfied smirk steal across his face. “Thanks again for booking the jacuzzi suite for us It came in handy, didn’t it, darlin’?” Bucky put his arm around Tony’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Hope your knees didn’t get too banged up, babe.” 

Tony grinned; even though he and Bucky hadn’t done anything other than simply sleep together the night before, he was more than happy to help Bucky troll Sam and Steve as hard as they’d trolled him. 

“My knees weren’t the only thing that got banged, were they, loverboy?” Tony purposely let his voice go raspy. “And those poor pillows, I nearly tore them to pieces trying to keep from waking the neighbors. You know those sheets are never going to be the same, either.” He struggled to keep from laughing, as Steve had gone beet red and even Sam was blushing. Tony wound his arm around Bucky, resting his hand low on Bucky’s hip, which was conveniently at eye level for their friends at the table. “Can’t wait to come back here tonight for a second round, you sexy beast.” 

“Okay, why don’t you guys grab something to eat so we can get outta here,” Sam finally managed to say, making shooing gestures at them. 

Tony picked up a tray and two plates from one end of the buffet. “So, what looks good to you, Buck?” They worked their way down the table, getting dabs of this and that, sampling just about everything on offer. After their meal and a few cups of the best coffee Tony had tasted on this trip so far, the four of them were ready to take on the Grand Canyon. 

Sam slid behind the wheel, motioning Steve to take the passenger seat. He turned to Tony and Bucky, who were getting settled in the back seat. “Okay lovebirds, if y’all get too handsy, I will turn this car right around. I don’t need to be traumatized again this early in the morning.” 

“Yes, Dad, we’ll be good,” they chorused. 

The car was chilly at first, and Tony appreciated the warm arm around his shoulder. Ty had never been much for physical affection that wasn’t a direct precursor to sex, and Tony had missed simple things like holding hands and cuddling close. He was pleased that Bucky seemed to be Ty’s opposite in yet another way.

They planned to spend several hours out at the Canyon, despite the blustery weather. The gift shop was well stocked with winter gear, so they all bought souvenir stocking caps, and took the requisite selfies. They grabbed a few maps as well, and headed out to explore. Sam and Tony hung back a little at first; after all, this had been Steve and Bucky’s idea, their dream, and they deserved to enjoy it together. 

Steve was his usual excitable self. First he was disappointed to learn that the Grand Canyon Skywalk was nowhere near the National Park -- it was almost a four hour drive and expensive as well; over $80 a person, even if it did include a meal. Then he bemoaned the fact he forgot to bring his fingerless gloves. “I was gonna get so much sketching done, but now my hands’ll stiffen up too quick!” Tony couldn’t hear Bucky’s reply, but saw the fond smile and shoulder hug he gave his best friend. It made Tony think of Rhodey, his first, best friend, and found himself smiling as well. He couldn’t wait to introduce Rhodey and Bucky. 

The wind was blowing pretty strongly, and they took shelter in the various buildings to warm up as they walked along the canyon edge. While the main paths were paved, most of the observation areas had been left in their natural state and were uneven and rocky. Tony held out a hand to help Bucky, and was gratified when he not only accepted the assistance, but kept holding on once the terrain smoothed out again. Bucky also made an excellent windbreak, and Tony in turn tried to keep Bucky’s left side warm as much as possible. 

They had lunch at the small cafe next to the visitor’s center with the hot coffee and soup being particularly welcome. Tony took the wheel for the drive back to Flagstaff and the Lowell Observatory. He and Bucky had both clamored to add the location where Clyde Tombaugh first sighted Pluto to their list of landmarks to visit, and had booked a guided tour just that morning. 

After the tour of the observatory as well as some self-guided sightseeing around the complex, It was after sunset by the time they returned to their hotel rooms. They had stopped for dinner at a local diner on the way back, and Sam and Steve both rolled their eyes as Tony and Bucky shared a sundae and took turns feeding each other bites of ice cream. They offered the use of the jacuzzi to Sam and Steve, who politely demurred. “Y’all go have fun up there on your own,” Sam said, “A hot shower will do me fine,” while Steve tried not to blush again. 

“Just remember we gotta get up early to start the drive back home,” he muttered, heading up the hallway to his and Sam’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this chapter was a bit of a tease, but the original request "Would be nice if it was smutty" will be more or less satisfied in the final chapter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Bucky return to their hotel room and make up for lost time. In an epilogue, Tony's friends (and Dem-E) celebrate his birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I backed down the rating a bit -- readers for whom smut isn't their thing can skip everything between the dotted lines and not miss much of the plot.

Tony walked into the their hotel room first. The curtains were pulled back and framed the starry sky. He turned on a light to see the neatly-made bed, and a fresh stack of towels laid out on the edge of the jacuzzi. His nerves kicked up a little, but it was mostly in a good way. Even though he and Bucky hadn’t really talked about what had happened the night before, nothing about the time they’d spent together that day had felt awkward. They still hadn’t kissed, though, and he wanted to do something about that. 

“Tony?” He turned to see Bucky still in the entryway, a wary, yet hopeful look on his face. “Did you mean what you said last night?” 

“Yes.” 

At his simple, honest answer, Bucky’s eyes brightened, and with a smirk hovering at the edges of those nearly irresistible lips, he asked, “How about this morning?” 

Tony’s cheeks heated slightly as he remembered their trolling comments to Sam and Steve. “Well, how about we start with a kiss or two first?” 

They met in the middle of the room, Tony tipping his face up in invitation. Bucky wrapped his arm around Tony’s waist as their lips touched. It was cautious, gentle and sweet, but as a touch of heat flickered between them, Tony pulled Bucky closer, deepening the kiss.. 

Bucky suddenly jerked away, taking a step back and shaking his head. “What about this, champ?” He waved his stump, causing the loose sleeve to flap back and forth. “Brock couldn’t handle it; me not being whole, needin’ help all the time. You sure you wanna be with someone who’s broken?” 

Tony bit back a sharp response at being compared to someone who sounded like a real asshole, instead listening to what Bucky really meant. After a pause, he said, “I’d be lying if I said it didn’t matter, because it does. Losing half your arm has changed your life -- I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through, and what you still have to deal with.” Tony took Bucky’s hand in his, cradling it as he looked earnestly up into his companion’s face. “But it’s part of what makes you the man I’m falling for, as much as your eyes that change color every time I look at them, your fluency in movie quotes and your infectious laugh. I’ve never seen you as broken, sunshine, not from the day we met. And I want to give whatever this is,” and Tony gestured between them, “a try.” 

Their next kiss was considerably less gentle, and Tony didn’t mind a bit. Bucky had almost lunged at him, as if he were afraid Tony would change his mind if he hesitated. Opening his mouth eagerly to Bucky’s questing tongue, Tony slid his hands up under Bucky’s shirt to run his hands up and down that impressive back. Bucky’s hand tangled in Tony’s hair, holding him at the perfect angle. 

But as wonderful as the moment was, Tony wasn’t sure how much longer he could stay stretched up nearly on his toes with his neck at an angle that was starting to cause a cramp. So when they came up for breath, he suggested, “How about we get a little more comfy, loverboy?” 

Tony would have been perfectly happy to head for bed -- after all, he and Ty had hopped in the sack the night they’d met -- but Bucky instead sat in the oversized stuffed chair. Tony joined him, sitting on Bucky’s lap, facing him with his knees on either side of those delectable thighs. 

They picked back up where they’d left off, Tony running his hands through Bucky’s hair and Bucky reaching under Tony’s shirt to trace shapes on his back. “Any chance I can get this off you, darlin’?” he asked huskily as he tugged the hem of Tony’s shirt upward. 

“Sure, if you’re willing to return the favor.” And maybe that was pushing too far, too soon, but Tony couldn’t think of another way to prove to Bucky that he really was okay with his arm. 

Bucky paused for a long moment, then reached for the hem of his own henley. “A little help?” 

“Sure, but I might get a little distracted along the way.” Tony wasn’t lying; he really couldn’t keep his hands off Bucky, so disrobing took longer than it would have otherwise. Bucky was wearing the silicone sleeve, but to Tony’s surprise, it featured several colorful images, as if his arm were covered with tattoos. 

“Steve’s work,” Bucky said, noticing Tony’s focus of attention. “He drew a little doodle one day to try to cheer me up, and we just kinda went from there.” He pointed out the different designs; a Captain America shield in vibrant red, silver and blue, a cartoony M.I.T beaver and a stunning depiction of the Brooklyn Bridge. But Tony’s favorite image was that of Ursa Minor, with a large, shining Polaris. “Gonna get a couple of these done permanent-like, once the docs give me the go-ahead.” 

Then Bucky pulled at Tony’s shirt. “Your turn now, dark eyes.” Not that he had anything to compare with Bucky’s physique, but Tony had made a deal. Somewhat ungracefully, he pulled his shirt over his head, then shivered slightly as Bucky’s large, warm hand curved back around his waist to pull their bodies together. Tony hadn’t realized how much he missed this kind of intimate contact; he couldn’t hold back a hum of contentment. 

Bucky placed his lips on Tony’s collarbone, licking and sucking gently; Tony’s whispered request for more prompting both teeth and suction strong enough to leave marks. Tony gasped and moaned at the sensation. He was getting painfully hard, and as best he could tell, so was Bucky. 

“So, how far are you planning on going tonight, hot stuff?” Tony asked. “Just so you know, I wasn’t planning on getting laid on this trip, so I’m fresh out of condoms and lube.” 

Bucky nearly choked in surprise, then said softly, “Just ‘cause Steve ‘n Sam already think we did, doesn’t mean we have to do anything.” 

“Well, I figure with all the time we’ve spent together, this has got to be the equivalent of at least a fourth or fifth date. Isn’t that when most folks start thinking about getting it on?” 

“Yeah, I guess,” Bucky admitted, giving Tony a curious look. “Are you telling me you haven’t done this before?” 

“I’m no virgin, if that’s what you mean,” Tony replied a bit belligerently. “It’s just that Ty and I hooked up pretty much as soon as we met, which, in retrospect, might not have been the best way to do things.” 

“So he was your first?” 

Tony was getting frustrated both with the line of questioning, as well as the abrupt pause in their makeout session. “Does it matter? I know you’ve seen my license, Barnes; if this is about my age, just say so.” 

“No, Tony, it’s not, I promise.” Bucky’s voice was firm, yet cautious, “I just want to make sure that you won’t regret this. We can wait.”

“And what if I don’t want to?” Tony challenged. “You can’t tell me you’re not horny as hell right now, sunshine.” Tony rolled his hips into Bucky’s crotch to punctuate his statement. 

Bucky groaned with pleasure, then replied with a chuckle, “It’s never gonna be a dull moment with you, is it, doll? So how’s about a compromise?” He ran his hand up Tony’s leg, his thumb tracing the inseam until it brushed up against Tony’s hardon. “Dunno how good of a handie I could give ya, but,” and Bucky licked his lips lasciviously, “I’ve been told I give a hell of a blowjob.” 

“That is an excellent idea,” Tony replied, “However, I get to go first.” He made short work of unfastening Bucky’s fly, but as he slid down to his knees, Tony’s tight jeans pinched him uncomfortably; they had to go. 

“Hold that thought and I’ll be right back, gorgeous.” Tony got back to his feet and ducked into the bathroom. He grabbed a towel and Bucky’s pills, then quickly ditched his jeans. 

“I appreciate the enthusiasm, darlin’,” Bucky drawled when Tony returned, “but I was kinda hoping to unwrap that package.” Speaking of packages, Bucky had adjusted himself so that his fly was now open wide and the bulge in his dark-red briefs was quite prominent. 

\-------------- 

Tony wondered if he was getting a bit more than he’d bargained for; while he was aware that porn dicks were very much the exception to the rule, Bucky seemed to be on that end of the bell curve, while Ty had been a standard deviation or two on the other side. But Tony was a man of his word. 

“You’ll have your chance, but it’s my turn now.” Setting the items he held aside, Tony got back on his knees, and tugged at the waistband of Bucky’s jeans. He obligingly lifted his hips to let Tony slide them off. Tony then palmed Bucky through his briefs before running a finger around the elastic. “Are these going too, or should I just work around them?” 

“Whatever, darlin’.” Bucky’s pupils were blown wide and he was breathing heavily; he seemed happy to let Tony call the shots from this point forward. So Tony just pulled the front down and got his first good look at Bucky’s cock. He liked what he saw, even if it was bigger than he was used to. He wrapped his other hand around it, and took a few loose, slow strokes. Bucky threw his head back with a long, low, throaty groan that went right to Tony’s dick. “Yes, Tony, god, yes.” 

Tony licked slowly up Bucky’s length, the smooth hardness and velvety texture a sensuous delight. He swirled his tongue around the tip as he steadied the base with thumb and fingers, After several moments of teasing, Tony angled Bucky’s cock toward him so he could take it into his mouth. He worked his way down slowly until his lips met his fingers. The tip of Bucky’s cock was just brushing the back of his throat; Tony didn’t know how much deeper he could go, at least without some practice. 

Bucky touched the back of Tony’s head. “Can I? Promise I won’t push or hold ya down or nothin’.” Tony hummed his assent, and Bucky wove his fingers into Tony’s hair as he started bobbing up and down. Bucky’s moans and gasps were making Tony burn with desire; he’d been accustomed to jerking himself off while blowing Ty, as his ex wasn’t much on returning the favor. But with one hand on Bucky’s cock and the other holding his briefs out of the way, Tony just had to ride it out for now. 

“ ‘M gettin’ close, darlin’.” 

“Good. Want to taste you, Buck. Swallow down every last drop.” Bucky’s grip tightened in Tony’s hair, but he was true to his word; even as his hips bucked erratically, Bucky’s hand remained still, with no pressure or force being exerted. Tony went as deep as he dared as Bucky came with a shout. Tony backed off slowly, his tongue flicking out to catch the last few drops. He carefully tucked Bucky back into his briefs and rested his head against Bucky’s thigh. 

“Amazing.” Bucky slurred through a relaxed grin. “C’mere.” Tony crawled back up into his lap for some lazy kisses. Bucky ran his hand up Tony’s thigh, tracing Tony’s stiff cock through his briefs with gentle, teasing fingers. “Well, look what I found.” 

Tony moaned in reply, “Mmm, yes, please,” as he arched into Bucky’s touch. It felt as if every nerve in his body was directly wired to his cock; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this goddamned horny. It didn’t help that Bucky was nuzzling along his neck and collarbone, alternating tantalizing kisses, licks and nips. 

After one last stroke, Bucky tapped Tony’s thigh. “Get that sweet ass of yours naked and over to the bed, sugar.” Tony skinned out of his briefs and crawled up on the bed, doing his best to give Bucky a show. The half-moan, half-growl he heard from over his shoulder seemed to indicate he’d succeeded. Tony sprawled out on his back just in time for Bucky to prowl up into the vee of his legs for another heady kiss. 

As they kissed, Tony’s couldn’t help but rut his achingly hard cock against the crease of Bucky’s hip and thigh. He knew if he kept this up, he wouldn’t need the blowjob after all, and there was no way he was missing out on that opportunity. 

“Are those lips just as talented in other locations, hot stuff?” Tony asked, mustering the brain power to string a coherent sentence or two together. “I seem to remember a statement to that effect.” 

“Your wish is my command, sugar,” Bucky replied with a smirk. “ Want it slow and sweet or hard ‘n fast?” 

“It’s gonna be on the fast side no matter what,” Tony admitted; he was so riled up at this point that a stiff breeze might be enough to do him in. 

Bucky laughed softly, “Sounds like a challenge to me.” He slowly worked his way back down Tony’s body, kissing a trail down his chest and stomach. Settling himself between Tony’s legs, he cradled Tony’s balls with his hand as he lapped at the drops of pre-come that had already leaked from his rock-hard dick, each caress sending sparks of pleasure through Tony’s system. 

When the wet heat of Bucky’s mouth finally engulfed him, Tony couldn’t help but beg for more. Bucky was taking things nice and slow, wringing every drop of ecstasy out of Tony that he could. However, even at that leisurely pace, Tony found himself on the edge within minutes. “I’m close, so close,” he gasped, only to have Bucky swallow him to the root. 

Tony threw his head back and clutched at the blankets as a blindingly intense climax washed over him, pushing a high whine from his lips. Shaking and shuddering in its wake, Tony nearly hyperventilated in an effort to catch his breath. Ty had never had this kind of effect on him and it was overwhelming.

\-------------------

“It’s okay, darlin’. I gotcha. You’re alright.” Bucky’s comforting words were a lifeline as was his strong, warm body curling around Tony’s. 

“M’ okay,” Tony murmured, “Just powerful.” 

He felt Bucky’s smile against the back of his neck. “Good, though?” 

“God, yes.” And while the sex had been amazing, the emotional connection that had developed between them meant even more to him. “How about you?” 

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea,” Bucky breathed huskily. 

After a few minutes, Tony took a deep breath and stretched a little. “Hey, you need your meds, don’t you? They’re over here, on the nightstand.” 

They both pushed themselves into a sitting position as Tony handed the pills over to Bucky. “And what about the sleeve? Isn’t that supposed to come off at night?” he asked. 

“Yeah, it really should.” Bucky cocked his head, then asked, “So, you gonna keep taking care of me like this once we get back?” While his tone was light, the look on Bucky’s face was so open and vulnerable that Tony’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Yeah, if you’ll let me,” he answered softly, sealing the promise with a kiss. “That is, if Steve won’t mind that I’m muscling in on his territory.” 

Bucky laughed, “Nah, that punk’d probably appreciate the vacation. He’s such a worry-wart sometimes.” He started to roll the sleeve down off his stump, exposing the pale, scarred flesh. Tony was relieved that Bucky finally felt comfortable enough around him to do so. True, they’d just sucked each other’s dicks, but this was a different kind of intimacy and vulnerability. 

Bucky handed the sleeve to Tony to put on the nightstand, then blinked blearily. “We better get some sleep. We’ve got a long way to go, and a short time to get there.” 

“Ten-four, Bandit.” Bucky wrapped his arms around Tony, and they drifted off to sleep. 

=======================

Tony’s birthday fell on Saturday, so he had to wait until the following Monday to file his name change papers and wait to see what happened next. All his friends -- and wasn’t it wonderful to be able to say ‘all his friends’? -- were doing their best to distract him. Bucky took him on a romantic dinner date Friday night and their two-month-ish anniversary. Bucky had given Tony his present then as well. It was a bronze bracelet depicting the astrological symbols of Pluto and Charon with an inscription: “I am your moon, you are my moon.” It was a perfect reminder of their visit to Lowell Observatory and the events of that night; they’d both gotten a little misty eyed when Tony opened the box. 

On Saturday, Sam and Steve and Bruce joined them for an architectural walking tour of downtown Boston. But they had one more surprise planned: Rhodey showing up at Sam’s place that night, just as they were getting ready to have some dinner and play poker. “Rhodey-bear!” Tony practically threw himself at his oldest friend. “What in the hell are you doing here?”

“Hey, Tones!” Rhodey engulfed him in a hug, then ruffled Tony’s hair. “Scored a last-minute three day pass. I wasn’t about to miss your birthday. Besides, I heard you got yourself a new boyfriend.” 

“Yeah,” Tony smiled proudly. “Jim Rhodes, meet James Barnes. He goes by Bucky.” The two of them shook hands, Rhodey giving Bucky a sharp up-and-down look. Despite everything Tony had told him about Bucky, it seemed he wanted to make his mind up for himself. 

Sam broke in. “These two idiots would still be gazing longingly across the room at each other if it weren’t for me and Steve, here.” Once the introductions were finished, the six of them sat down at the table to eat. After dinner, Sam set up the table for poker while Tony asked Bucky to help him show off Dem-E to Rhodey. He and Bruce would be presenting it to their professors at the end of the semester and had made a lot of progress thanks to Bucky’s help. 

“Okay, you guys, while that is damned cool, it’s also kinda creepy,” Rhodey said, as Dem-E slowly tapped the table to indicate that Bucky was passing his turn. Sam shrugged and threw a few chips in the pot; he’d seen similar demos before. Bucky raised an eyebrow, then the whole table watched and burst into laughter as Dem-E’s hand raised, rotated at the wrist and all the fingers except one curled into a fist. 

Tony leaned into Bucky, still laughing as he kissed him. “God, I love you.” 

Bucky grinned as he made the obvious, familiar reply: “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're done! I had a lot of fun with this @imaginetonyandbucky prompt and I hope you all enjoyed this Road Trip as much as I did... I've actually been to all the places these boys visited (except Winslow, AZ - that's still on the bucket list!)


End file.
